#1003511 added February 2, 2021 at 7:13pm Restrictions: None
E. Pig and Pepper - #2 "The Kitchen"
A Soupy Hot Mess with Treacle Syrup
“Hair of newt, spit of fly. All the apple of my eye. Throw it in, pip and limb. All we have will now be spinned.”
The cook takes a big spoon. She stirs the black cauldron.
“Quick! Throw in some pepper!”
Where is the pepper? I see a box. I take the box and throw it in the big pot.
“Excellent. Now we need more carrots. Peel some carrots.”
The carrots are on a table. Orange and long. They suddenly start dancing about, the green leafy tops become hair. I cannot catch them before they dance out the door.
“The carrots left. I have no more,” I tell the cook. She throws some onions at me.
“Peel the onions,” she shouts.
The onions cry, they shout at me. “Don’t cut us!” Out the door went onions.
“Now the onions have gone. What am I to do?”
Cook throws her big spoon at me. “You need to listen to me. Take some hen fruit and mix them for me.” She stirred the pot.
I didn’t know where or what are hen fruit. I only saw apples and oranges. Lemons and limes. It sure is curious here in the kitchen. Cook threw some white cold round things at me. I caught them in a bowl.
“Those are hen fruit. Break them and mix them. Put them in a pan. Patty cake, patty cake, bake some baker’s hen fruit.”
The white rounds broke into slippery bits with clear white slime and yellow paste. White hard bits stayed on top. I mixed it all with cook’s spoon.
“Now throw out the baby with the bathwater. Bake your mess in here.” The cook threw a pan my way. It nearly hit the Duchess and her baby sitting near the fire.
“Stop it. You’ll hurt someone,” I told cook.
Duchess stood with baby. She put baby down, grabbed the pan and poured my mess into it. Then she put the pan in the oven.
“Now you, young lady, will help the cook finish the meal. No more dawdling. Baby and I are hungry. Hop to!”
Cook and I finished preparing dinner. We served the soup, the hot mess from the oven, and broiled waffles with treacle syrup.
The Duchess recited a poem for entertainment.
I want to have this day,
No other way is right.
Forever it will be,
The way of life is bright.
Now we shall go on our way
Walking down the boulevard.
Thank you for the meal,
I must now chase the little shooting star.
Baby stopped crying and ran out the door. The Duchess followed the little shooting star.
I waved goodbye as they disappeared down the boulevard.
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